have said she had any problems. Now, thanks to a pushy reporter who was more intuitive than she’d imagined, she realized that she’d just spent the past few years sweeping them under her very expensive rug.
Chapter 4
“Where’s Caitlyn?” Emma asked, walking into her mother’s kitchen and snagging an apple. After that hot-fudge sundae, she hadn’t expected to be hungry for days, but she’d taken a brisk walk up and down Main Street before driving back out to the ranch.
“Where do you think?” her mother asked with a chuckle. “In the barn with her grandfather. She’s helping with the chores, though my impression is that she’s more hindrance than help.”
“Maybe I ought to go out and rescue Dad.”
“Don’t you dare. He’s having the time of his life. He swears it’s like having you back again. Don’t you remember how you used to shadow his every move when you were Caitlyn’s age?”
Emma felt the tug of a smile. “I did, didn’t I? No wonder he was so shocked when I announced I was going to be a lawyer. He must have been certain I was going to take over the ranch.”
Her mother’s expression turned nostalgic. “Of all the kids, you were the one who showed the most interest in it. Now it looks as if Matt’s going to take over by default.”
Emma was startled by the observation. “Why do you say it like that? He’s doing a good job, isn’t he?”
“Of course. Matt’s a hard worker, but his heart’s not in it, not the way it should be.”
“I thought he wanted this,” Emma said.
Her mother shook her head. “No, there just wasn’t anything else he wanted more. It didn’t help that he and Martha married so young. Maybe if he’d gone to college…” She shrugged, her voice trailing off.
“You’re really worried about Matt, aren’t you?” Emma asked.
“I am. I’m afraid your brother is adrift. That’s why he’s so unhappy. You heard him at lunch the other day. He grumbles about everything. He sounds like an old man.”
“Who’s an old man?” Emma’s father demanded, coming in at the end of the conversation. “Not me.”
Her mother stood on tiptoe to kiss his weathered cheek. “Never you. You won’t ever get old.”
Caitlyn tugged excitedly on Emma’s arm. “Mom, guess what? Grandpa taught me to muck out the stalls.”
“Really?” Emma said, barely containing her amusement. “And you liked that?”
“It’s kind of yucky, but it’s real, real important, isn’t it, Grandpa?”
“Very important,” he agreed, winking at Emma. “You bought it when you were her age, too. Don’t disillusion her.”
A puzzled frown knit Caitlyn’s brow. “What’s disillusion?”
Emma brushed her hair away from her face. “Nothing you need to worry about, my love. How did your riding lesson go?”
An incandescent smile lit Caitlyn’s eyes. “It was sooo fun. I’m getting good, aren’t I, Grandpa?”
“You’re terrific, baby doll.”
Emma’s eyes misted at the endearment. It was what he had once called her. As if he understood what she was feeling, her father clasped her hand in his large callused hand and squeezed.
Thinking of her conversation with her mother, Emma whispered, “I’m sorry, Dad.”
He seemed startled. “For what? You have nothing to apologize to me for.”
“I know you’d hoped that I’d stay here and work with you.”
“That was my dream, not yours. You’re entitled to the life you want. All that matters is that you’re happy.”
Of course, that was the problem, Emma realized. In the past few days she’d been forced to face the fact that she didn’t even know what real happiness meant anymore. Worse, she couldn’t seem to remember when it had ceased to matter. Maybe she and her brother Matt were in the same sinking boat.
Ford was putting the finishing touches on the layout of photos from the class reunion when Ryan strolled in. The sheriff peered over his shoulder.
“Teddy did a good job, didn’t he?” he said, sounding surprised.
“The boy’s definitely got a way with a camera,” Ford agreed.
“Having you as a mentor is real good for him,” Ryan said. “I’m grateful. Ever since his dad left, he’s been desperate for a role model.”
“An uncle who’s the sheriff isn’t a bad one,” Ford pointed out. “He idolizes you.”
“In some ways, not in others,” Ryan said. “I always thought he was wasting his time and my sister’s money by shooting five rolls of film at every family gathering. It took someone like you to channel what he loves into a money-making proposition. Now all he talks about is being a photojournalist. He can’t wait to get to college this fall. Before, he was going just because his mother and I pushed him to.”
“He is motivated,” Ford agreed. “He’ll make the most of it.” He studied the sheriff speculatively. “What brings you by? I’m sure it wasn’t to get an advance peek at this week’s headlines.”
“Nothing specific,” Ryan said. “I had a few minutes to kill before I head over to the town council meeting. You going?”
“Of course. Anything exciting on the agenda?”
“I hear there’s a zoning request to subdivide the old Callaway ranch into a housing development.”
Though his attitude was nonchalant, something in Ryan’s voice alerted Ford that he wasn’t happy about the plan. “Is there a problem with that?”
“The plan calls for low-cost, subsidized housing. I’m afraid we’re going to be attracting nothing but trouble.”
“There’s not a need for it around here?”
“No. Housing costs are modest as it is. I’ve checked. Locally there aren’t any families in dire need of low-cost housing. It would be a draw for folks from the bigger cities. I’ve got nothing against that on principle, but a whole development all at once will end up putting a strain on the school and on all the other services, law enforcement included. There will be an economic impact on the community, no doubt about it. Winding River’s just beginning to get back on its feet. Tourism is starting to flourish. We’ve had a few people with big bucks move into the county. Last year a few small businesses opened. I don’t want to see anything come along to change that direction.”
What Ryan was saying made a lot of sense. Development per se wasn’t necessarily bad, but the wrong kind could sabotage all efforts to improve the town.
“Is
